


Lovestruck

by persephoneapple



Series: Harry Potter Fests [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Doctor/Patient, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:44:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5223809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephoneapple/pseuds/persephoneapple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever Draco feels sick, he likes to self-diagnose based on the list of symptoms he’s Googled. To be honest, it never works out well for him, but that hasn’t stopped him from trying. Of course, the one time he happens to be right about his illness is also the one time he wishes he were wrong. Good thing his boyfriend is there to help sort him out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lovestruck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [procoffeinating](https://archiveofourown.org/users/procoffeinating/gifts).



> Primea, you are the first person I’ve ever written a fic for, so I hope you enjoy this. It’s short, sweet (if slightly angsty), but hopefully funny. Thanks to R for looking this over for me and to the mods for their extension.

“The patient is in room three, Dr. Potter,” the nurse tells him as she hands him the medical file. It’s thick and the outside is covered in sticky notes that makes Harry groan because he immediately knows who it is. Of course his last patient would have to his most troublesome.

“Thank you, Kate. Do you have any idea what he has this time?”

“His vitals were normal, except for his blood pressure. But, well, he wanted to tell you for himself,” she says, putting on her coat. “Why do you let him come back here time and time again?” 

“I have an obligation to help people, Kate. I can’t turn anyone away.”

“You can, especially since this is a pediatrics’ office. How old is he, thirty?”

“Twenty-nine, actually. He’s harmless.”

“You’re far too nice, Dr. Potter. If it were me, I would have turned him away months ago.”

Harry grins at her. “Well, my boyfriend does say I have a savior complex.”

“I believe it. You’re one of the best and I’ll have to tell him that when I finally meet him.” She picks up her purse from her desk and waves at him. “I’m heading out, so good luck.”

Harry says goodbye as well before walking back to where the examination rooms are located. The entire doctor’s office is painted to look like the African wilderness with the animals hiding in the tall grass. His boyfriend had once told him that the paintings of elephants, lions, and giraffes on the walls were inaccurate. The animals wouldn’t be playing with each other, he had said while shaking his head, they would be too busy trying to kill each other for food. Sometimes Harry’s mind was baffled at the things his boyfriend said.

Standing outside room three, Harry takes a deep breath before knocking on the door. There’s a reason why he’s the only doctor who had the patience to treat this particular patient. If Harry’s lucky, then this examination would take less than ten minutes before he’s on his way home. If he’s not, then he has to be prepared to answer each and every question until the patient is fully satisfied and there could be no telling how long that would take.

 _Here goes nothing,_ Harry thinks and steps into the room. To his surprise, it’s empty. “Hello, I’m Dr. Potter,” he says anyway, just in case the person is nearby and has stepped out of the room to take a phone call.

“Harry,” a voice says right next to him. Harry turns to his right to see a tall, blond man who’s frowning as he reads the influenza poster that is tacked to the wall. “Do you know that some of the information on this is inaccurate?” 

“Draco,” Harry says with mild surprise at seeing his boyfriend in the room. His eyes drop down to the files in his hands to confirm that this is indeed the right person. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sick,” Draco says, adding, “obviously” under his breath when Harry stares at him with one eyebrow arched.

“With what?” Harry frowns as he tries to remember Draco’s most recent visit to his practice. “It’s been a month since your last appointment and nothing was wrong with you then.”

“Well, that was last month and now I’m not fine. But if you don’t believe me, feel free to explain my untimely death to my mother once they find my corpse.” Draco straightens his jacket and brushes off imaginary lint before walking away with his back so stiff that Harry winces at how uncomfortable it looks.

He makes it as far as the door before Harry sighs and says, “All right, I’m sorry. There’s no need to be so dramatic.” Absentmindedly, he runs a hand through his hair, like he always does when Draco does or says anything absurd. Sometimes he thinks it’s a wonder that all of it hasn’t fallen out already. “So you say you’re sick? Well, that’s not good. Care to explain?”

When Draco turns around, there’s a pleased look on his face. “Well, I was feeling out of sorts recently and I Googled all of my symptoms…”

Even though Draco is still talking, Harry doesn’t need to hear anything more. It’s exactly how each and every one of Draco’s last visits had started out, with Draco bursting into Harry’s office demanding he be properly diagnosed with the latest illness he had read about on the internet. “Not this again, Draco. You can’t just declare yourself sick--”

“But I am sick. I’m being very serious.” Draco reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a sheet of paper and waves it in front of Harry’s face. “Here’s the proof.”

“What is that?” Harry attempts to grab the paper, but Draco pulls it away out of reach.

“You can’t look at it yet. I want to have an unbiased, professional diagnosis here.”

Harry stares at him, unblinking, for many seconds, but Draco does not shy away. “If I do this,” Harry says slowly, “you have to promise me one thing, okay?”

“If it’s within reason.”

“Do not self-diagnose yourself anymore, especially with information found on the internet. The last few times you’ve done so you have been completely wrong-”

“I have not-“

“Yes, you have been.” Harry opens the medical file and takes out the write-ups he had done for each of Draco’s ‘emergency’ visits. “Remember when you thought you had tonsillitis? Or strep throat? Or thought you needed a root canal because your tooth hurt so much? I don’t even know why you came to me since I’m not even a dentist.”

“Vaguely.” Draco says, but Harry can tell from the way he’s refusing to meet his eyes and the way his cheeks have turned red that he remembers it quite well. _As he should_ , Harry thinks. After all, he had refused to kiss Harry during all of his ‘illnesses” until he had made a full recovery.

“Draco, if you have any concerns, just ask me, but you can’t waste my, or any other doctor’s, time with frivolous inquiries. The only reason I’ve allowed you to come here for so long is that I really thought you were sick and it would be wrong of me to turn you away.” _Also, you’re not officially a patient in my practice_ , Harry thinks, _but there’s no need for you to know that._

Draco stays still for so long, his face carefully blank, that Harry would almost think he’s in shock except for the way he’s slowly breathing in and out. It’s a technique he recognizes Draco using to calm himself down in stressful situations. Finally, Draco gives a small nod.

“Fine. I can promise you that I won’t look up my symptoms anymore, but I _had_ to this time. I didn’t know what else to do, Harry. Have you even read what I’ve told the nurse?”

“I have, but all it does is list some symptoms: difficulty sleeping, high blood pressure, loss of appetite, difficulty focusing, and unusual accelerated heart rate. That last one really worries me.” Harry pushes his glasses higher on his nose and frowns at the nurse’s notes. “I’ll have to check that again. Depending on the outcome of your exam today, I might have to order some laboratory tests, but I’ll explain more at the end. Any questions so far?”

Draco shakes his head and Harry motions for him to go sit on the examination table. Once Draco is sitting comfortably, Harry puts on a pair of latex gloves and says, “Good. Now, open wide.”

“What--“ Draco says and Harry uses that moment to press a flat, wooden stick against Draco’s tongue to peer inside, standing so close that his nose is almost inside Draco’s mouth.

“Since your last few visits have dealt with your ear-nose-throat area, I’d thought I’d start there first.” The inside of Draco’s mouth is a healthy pink and his teeth are white despite the fact that his breath smells of the curry he must have had for lunch. There’s nothing wrong with his mouth except for--

“You should visit a dentist soon, Draco. I saw three cavities. Tiny ones, of course,” Harry quickly adds when Draco shuts his mouth and runs his tongue against all of his teeth. 

He glares at Harry. “Stop gifting me so much chocolate and then maybe I won’t have this problem.” They both know that is a lie, since Draco could never refuse anything with chocolate, be it sweets or pastries.

“I’ll remember that for next time, then,” Harry says, tilting Draco’s head to check his ears. Again, they are perfectly normal, which is strange because sometimes Harry thinks that his requests to take out the trash or wash the dishes falls on deaf ears.

“Your ears are good.” Harry says, clicking on a penlight to shine in Draco’s eyes. He doesn’t blink or move his head like anyone else would, which Harry takes to mean that he’s still fuming about the cavities Harry had discovered.

“You might also want to consider a visit to the optometrist,” Harry says, which earns him a “hmph!” from Draco. Harry rolls his eyes; although they’ve never seriously talked about it, Draco has always given some not-so-subtle hints about Harry correcting his vision to get rid of his glasses.

“Okay, the last thing I want to do is listen to your heart and lungs.” He unwraps the stethoscope from around his neck and cleans the diaphragm with an alcohol wipe. “May I?” he gestures to Draco, who nods and sits up straight.

Harry’s hands are cold and Draco flinches when his gloved fingers go underneath his shirt and graze against his stomach. “Sorry,” Harry says, “I usually remember to warm them beforehand.” The stethoscope goes on the left upper part of Draco’s chest and he squirms when the metallic part touches his skin. “Now, take a deep breath for me,” Harry instructs. Draco inhales as much air as possible without choking. “Hold it for a few seconds and then let it go.”

Draco’s heart starts out beating steadily until suddenly, in the middle of counting Draco’s heartrate, it speeds up. Harry looks down in concern, but all Draco does is tighten his hands into fists and stare right over Harry’s shoulders at something on the wall.

Harry listens several more times, each time having an increase in heart rate, until Harry takes the stethoscope away and yanks the plugs from his ears.

“Your heart is beating a little too fast, but not enough to cause concern. That usually happens when a person is exercising or nervous. I don’t imagine that I could make you nervous.” Harry laughs awkwardly and pulls off his gloves to throw in the trash.

For the first time that evening, something other than annoyance or disdain appears in Draco’s eyes. If Harry hadn’t been watching Draco closely, he would have missed the look of surprise flash across Draco’s face. Although that’s quickly replaced with a look that’s meant to mask any and all emotions.

“Are you okay, Draco?” 

“I’m fine. Can you please tell me what’s wrong with me now?”

“All right,” Harry responds a little bit uncertainly. Then he tells him the truth, albeit in a slightly exaggerated way. “So here’s what I can tell you. You are far too thin, and may be anaemic, but that’s nothing a few good meals won’t help. Your chin is too pointy, but I guess if that had bothered you at all, you would have already considered cosmetic surgery. And there’s nothing I can do for your pale complexion, except suggest go to a tanning salon.”

Harry struggles to hide his grin as he’s telling Draco all of this. He had taken a chance that if he told Draco outrageous things perhaps that would either make him laugh or make him angry enough to pull him out of the sullen mood he’s in.

“What? Is this some kind of joke? What kind of doctor are you? How is that even--“ Draco’s so flustered that he can’t even finish the rest of his sentence. 

“That’s the good news, Draco, because all of that can be treated. The even better news is that nothing seems out of the ordinary. You have a good set of lungs and an even better heart, even if it’s beating fast,” Harry says, crossing his arms. “I’m afraid there’s nothing wrong with you.”

The _I told you so_ goes unsaid.

Instead of smiling and thanking Harry like he had the last few time Draco had visited, Draco frowns and presses his lips in a thin line. 

“Okay, how do you explain this?” Draco takes out the sheet of paper he had been holding onto and finally gives it to Harry. There are so many creases and tiny tears that Harry has to smooth it out and bring it to his face to even make out the words that are printed on the paper. But as he reads further down the page, it’s his turn to have his heart beat faster.

“Dammit, Draco, you had me worried there for a moment. This is what you’re afraid of? You think you’re in love?” Harry says slowly, looking up at Draco over the edge of the page.

Draco refuses to meet Harry’s eyes. “Not in love. Love-struck.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You tell me. I just typed in everything I felt into the search engine and this is what came up. Obviously something must be wrong.” He shrugs his shoulders and crosses his arms as if daring Harry to contradict him.

“It doesn’t sound so bad,” Harry says delicately. It’s true that most of Draco’s symptoms meet the criteria, but not all of it is negative. 

“Are you kidding me? I don’t want to have this illness! There’s no way in hell I can be love-struck!” Draco’s hands grip the edge of the examination table so hard that it turns his knuckles white.

Harry doesn’t know if he wants to kiss the man in front of him or strangle him. “See, Draco, this is why you don’t self-diagnose, no matter how bad or good you’re feeling! Because you find something and get fixated on it to the point of obsession, when it turns out that you’ve been wrong all along.”

“It you!” Draco says suddenly, poking him in the chest. “You make me sick.”

“Excuse me?”

“If we’re talking about obsession, then I blame you. Why I am I always thinking about you? From the moment I wake up my day is filled with thoughts of you. I’m surprised it hasn’t affected my work at all. Everything I do, I stop and think, _I wonder what Harry’s doing right now? Would he like this gift or not?_ And most recently, _Should I invite Harry over to meet my mother?_ It’s like I can’t function without you by my side and driving me insane!”

Harry mouth opens and closes several times during Draco’s outburst before he decides he’s had enough. “Fine, you’re not love-stuck! But guess what? If you die without ever being in love, then I feel sorry for you.”

There’s silence in the room as Harry picks up Draco’s medical file and stuffs his notes and Draco’s paper about being love-struck inside. He’s tempted to write ‘IDIOT’ across the file and throw it in the trash, but stops when Draco clears his throat.

“How do you know if you’re in love?” Draco asks it so quietly that Harry’s not sure he’s heard the question correctly until he sees Draco’s cheeks go red in embarrassment.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Harry.” 

“Err, there isn’t a correct way to tell if you’re in love. But that’s okay!” Harry hastens to add when he sees Draco’s face fall, “It just means different things for different people.”

“Is that so? How do I make you feel?” 

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to gather all his thoughts so that his words come out right. “There are times when you infuriate me to no end. You’re very sarcastic and have to be right all the time and sometimes I think you hate my friends, but I really can’t prove that.”

“That’s not really helping me out, Harry.”

“No, I guess not. Then there are the times when I see a different side of you. You’re loyal to your friends and value your family and use your fortune to donate to those in need. It also helps that I like to wake up next to you on lazy Sunday mornings or show you new things like how to do your own laundry or cook an entire meal from scratch. You make my life interesting, Draco. But in the end, there’s only one thing that matters.”

“What’s that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? God help me, but I’m love-struck, too.” There, he’s said it. Perhaps not in the way that he would have wanted to, but if Draco could admit to not knowing that he’s falling in love with Harry, then Harry could admit that he’s already fallen, hard.

“I’m sorry,” Draco says slowly, closing his grey eyes as he reaches out blindly to take Harry’s hands in his, brushing his thumb against Harry’s knuckles. “I always knew you were a sap, Harry.”

Harry chuckles. “Well, you always did bring out the best and worst in me. Are you feeling better?”

Draco opens his eyes and nods.

They sit together on the examination bed, going through Draco’s medical file and poking fun of all his different ailments until the alarm on Harry’s wristwatch goes off. “I have to close the office now, Draco.”

“Well, thanks for all your help, doctor,” Draco says, getting off the bed and stretching his arms over his head to work out the stiff muscles. 

“Is it safe to assume that I’ll never see you in my office again?”

“Of course. I think I’m cured of everything that has been bothering me.”

“That’s a relief.” Harry reaches into his pocket and says, “Here, have a lollipop. It’s what I give to all my patients who have been good.”

Draco raises an eyebrow. “You also said I had three cavities.”

“One more sweet won’t kill you. Besides, it’s chocolate flavored. Have a good evening, Draco.” He’s just about to step out of the room when he hears Draco call out his name.

“Harry, are you free tonight?”

He turns back to find Draco standing in the examination room with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Why?”

“I think it’s time for you to finally meet my mother.”

Harry smiles widely at him. “I’d like that.”

“Good. Someone has to explain my illness to her.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can show your appreciation for the author in a comment here or on [Livejournal](http://hd-erised.livejournal.com/48139.html). ♥
> 
> This story is part of an on-going anonymous fest hosted at [hd_erised @ livejournal.com](http://hd_erised.livejournal.com/). The author will be revealed January 8th.
> 
> Thank you for reading. If you'd like more Harry/Draco, then follow me on [tumblr](http://persephoneapples.tumblr.com/).


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